Apocalyptic Visions Super Boxset

by James Hunt

  Beth looked out the window. The street signs were signaling that they were close to Columbus. Then the car turned onto one of the exits for the city.

  “I thought we were going to Cincinnati?” Beth asked.

  “We’re just going to make a quick pit stop here,” Cain answered. He looked over to her for the first time on the trip and smiled. “I need to show off my new weapons.”

  Beth hadn’t been to any major city since she was a little girl. Her jaw dropped when they entered downtown Columbus. The skyscrapers and buildings towered over her. There were abandoned cars and trash everywhere. It looked like a war zone.

  They weaved in and out of the parked cars through the streets until they made it to a blockade of men with guns in uniform. Cain stopped the truck.

  “Stay here,” he said.

  The door slammed as he left and walked toward the soldier. He was greeted with a handshake and smile. He kept gesturing back to the truck and Beth could see the other soldier squinting into the window to get a look at her.

  Joey poked his head through the space between the two front seats.

  “What are we doing here?” Joey asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m getting hungry.”

  “I’m sure we’ll eat something soon.”

  Once they were past the blockade the rest of the city seemed so neat. The cars had been cleared from the streets and the trash had been picked up. People were walking back and forth casually, as if nothing was wrong.

  In one of the windows of the stores they passed she could see a fan plugged in blowing air across someone’s face.

  “The power is on?” Beth asked.

  “What?” Joey said, jumping out of his seat.

  “Yes,” Cain said.

  “How?” Beth asked

  “We turned it on,” Cain said.

  They pulled into a space where some other military trucks were located. “City Hall” was printed across the sign in front of the building.

  There were more guards stationed at the entrance, and all of them saluted Cain as he passed them.

  Inside there were rooms filled with people. None of them had uniforms on. All of them were in regular street clothes, and they varied in age and ethnicity. Cain brought them to a room where most of the inhabitants were young men.

  “Wait here and I’ll come to collect you in a little while,” Cain said.

  Before Beth could say anything Cain closed the door. Two empty chairs were alone in the corner, so that’s where Beth and Joey headed.

  There were whispers as the two of them walked by, and understandably so. The men in the room looked strong, healthy. An old woman and young boy didn’t fit the room’s standard.

  Beth had no idea what’d she gotten herself into. For the first time since she left Carrollton she could feel doubt creep into her mind.

  ***

  Cain knocked on the office door and a hoarse voice greeted him from the other side.

  “Enter!”

  The old man behind the desk looked up from his paperwork.

  “HA! Cain, my boy! I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it,” Major Griffin said.

  Griffin embraced Cain in a hug and Cain took a seat across from Griffin’s desk.

  “What took you so long?” Griffin asked.

  “I wanted to make sure that I got what we needed.”

  “Always the perfectionist. How many did you bring back?”

  “Two.”

  “Two? That’s it?”

  Cain nodded.

  “Jesus, Cain. Thompson brought back at least a dozen. You really couldn’t find any more than two?”

  “I found plenty, but I only found two that fit what we need.”

  “Well, they must be something. Nothing wrong with quality over quantity. Did you drop them off in the training room?”

  “Yes.”

  “The drills should be starting soon. Let’s go take a look.”

  Cain and Griffin snaked through the hallways. A few other soldiers joined them as they walked out the back and headed across the street. The group of recruits they brought in exited the side of the building and spilled into the training yard.

  The officers around Cain and Griffin pointed out the ones they recruited.

  “So where are yours, Cain?” Thompson asked.

  “There on the back corner,” Cain answered.

  Laughter rippled through the group, but Cain didn’t flinch.

  “Stopped at a daycare on your way in?” Thompson asked.

  Griffin grabbed Cain by the arm and leaned him in close.

  “Is this some kind of joke, Cain?” Griffin asked.

  “Just watch.”

  The group of recruits went through a few exercises on the field. Beth and Joey struggled with some of the drills, while the rest of the group brushed through them with ease. It went on like that for about an hour.

  After the final physical drills were completed, Thompson slapped Cain on the back.

  “We can’t all bring home winners,” Thompson said.

  “No, we can’t,” Cain said.

  The group of recruiters started to disperse and Griffin shook his head in disgust. Everyone had turned their backs to him.

  “Anyone care to place a small wager?” Cain asked.

  Thompson was the first to turn around.

  “And what’s the bet?” Thompson asked.

  “That my recruits can get the job done, but yours can’t.”

  “We’ve already seen what the recruits can and can’t do, Cain, but I’m always up for watching you embarrass yourself.”

  “Bring your two best recruits to the shooting range in an hour.”

  “What do you say, boys?” Thompson asked, glancing around at the other recruiters. “Anyone up for a little target practice?”

  ***

  When the hour was up the recruiters gathered their two best marksmen. It was an inside range, with targets set at different intervals. The first was close, only five yards out, but the farthest was thirty yards, used for rifle practice.

  It was decided that everyone would be using the same rifle for consistency. Thompson went to set the targets down the field but stopped, turning back to Cain.

  “Maybe we should start at the five-yard mark? That way your recruits have an easier time,” Thompson said.

  “The ten-yard mark will be fine, but I brought my own targets,” Cain said.

  Cain disappeared into one of the rooms. When he came back he was pulling the arm of a young woman. She was blindfolded and had a gag in her mouth. Cain stood her in front of the ten-yard target and whispered in her ear.

  “Stay still.”

  He gave her a kiss on the cheek and she shuddered as he removed the blindfold and pulled the wad of cloth out of her mouth.

  “What are you doing?” Griffin asked.

  “Winning a bet.”

  Cain brushed Griffin off and picked up the rifle.

  “First person to shoot wins,” Cain said.

  The only sound that was heard was the gasp from the woman. She was shaking. Tears were running down her face. She struggled for breath when she spoke, choking on her own spit.

  “P-please, d-don’t do th-this,” she said.

  “This is insane,” Thompson said.

  Thompson moved toward the girl and Cain aimed the barrel of the rifle at him. Thompson froze.

  “Out in the field we won’t be shooting thin sheets of paper with rings around them. We’ll be shooting people like her. People who oppose us and what we’re trying to build. Or did you forget that on your trip, Thompson?” Cain asked.

  Cain pressed the rifle’s barrel into Thompson’s chest.

  “This isn’t a rebuilding effort we’re putting together. We’re still tearing down the old country to make way for a new one. Where the weak-willed and weak-minded, people like that,” Cain said, pointing at the girl, “are no longer part of the problem.”

  The recruits started to speak out all a
t once.

  “I didn’t sign up for this.”

  “This is crazy.”

  “You can’t be serious?”

  Cain fired a round into the ceiling, silencing everyone. He motioned to Beth, who came over and grabbed the rifle from him.

  Beth aimed the rifle at the girl, who was screaming hysterically now. She kept backing up, pressing into the stand behind her, trying to dissipate through the wood and metal.

  “Fire,” Cain said.

  Beth squeezed the trigger. The bullet flew through the woman’s head and she hit the floor. The only sound after that was the bullet casing rolling on the concrete.

  Beth handed the rifle back to Cain and rejoined the other recruits. Cain kept the rifle in his hands and walked over to Thompson.

  “I win.”

  Six Months After Blackout

  Dr. Wyatt’s palms were sweaty. It didn’t matter how many times he wiped them on his pants, they just wouldn’t dry. He’d been sitting in the interrogation room waiting, and dreading, for Ben to bring Mike through the door.

  When the door finally opened and Ben escorted Mike in, Dr. Wyatt’s insides twisted all at once.

  “I’m not speaking with him,” Mike said.

  “You can do whatever you want, but you’re in this room for the next twenty minutes,” Ben said.

  The chains around Mike’s ankles rattled against the floor when he walked.

  “You don’t need to keep those on him,” Dr. Wyatt said.

  “Yes, you do,” Mike replied.

  “I’ll be watching on the other side, so I don’t want anyone trying anything stupid,” Ben said.

  The door clicked shut after Ben left. Dr. Wyatt had rehearsed this moment in his head a million times. Each time he’d run through it there would be a different ending, but the moment he opened his mouth he couldn’t find the words he practiced.

  “What are you doing here?” Mike asked.

  “I’ve been trying to find you,” Dr. Wyatt said.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “This isn’t your fault.”

  “Enough of it is.”

  Sweat was collecting under Wyatt’s arms. He undid the button on his collar, feeling the steam escape out of his shirt.

  “You’re punishing yourself for something you had nothing to do with,” Dr. Wyatt said.

  “But we both know why I’m here.”

  “Mike…”

  “You broke your promise, Doctor, so now I’m breaking mine,” Mike said.

  Dr. Wyatt said nothing. He simply rose from his seat, shaking slightly as he walked past Mike and out the door.

  Once he made it out of the interrogation room he ran for the bathroom. He shoved the stall door open and made it to the toilet just as the vomit sprayed from his mouth.

  One arm shook, resting on the toilet seat while he collapsed to the cold tile. He grabbed a piece of toilet paper and wiped his mouth.

  ***

  Ben escorted Mike back to his cell. It took him twice as long to go anywhere because of the chains. All he could do was shuffle down the halls, and each time he moved his feet the steel would cut deeper into his skin.

  “Want to explain what all that was about?” Ben asked.

  Mike didn’t answer. They made it to his cell and Ben dropped him off, undoing his shackles. The steel door clanked shut. There was a small opening in the middle of the door for meals to slide in and out. Ben opened it, so Mike could hear him speak.

  “Let me help you,” Ben said.

  Mike sat down on the edge of the cot, rubbing his hands and wrists. He kept his head down, looking at his feet.

  “Make sure I don’t see him again,” Mike said.

  The moment Ben slid the food hatch closed Mike’s hands started to shake. The pain stopped coming and going weeks ago. They just hurt all of the time now.

  He just wanted it to be over. He’d tried before, but he couldn’t stop the will to live. He needed someone else to do it for him. That’s what he wanted to find here. That’s why he turned himself in.

  He stroked his beard slowly. It was thick, and matted. He ran his shaking fingers through the tangled knots. He lay down on the cot, resting his head on the flat pillow. The springs of the bed squeaked as he shifted trying to find a comfortable spot.

  He didn’t try closing his eyes. It wouldn’t have made a difference if he did. He couldn’t fall asleep anymore, and the rare moments when exhaustion finally caught up with him he didn’t stay asleep long. There were always bloody faces to wake him up in the night.

  Day 26 Cincinnati

  Mike hadn’t been able to leave the hospital for almost twenty-four hours. The straps around his feet and hands were driving him mad. His visit from Wyatt didn’t provide him any answers, but then again he wasn’t able to stay awake for very long to speak to him.

  Now that Mike was awake, he couldn’t sit still. The nurses came and checked on him periodically. The faint, random screams of other patients echoing through the halls outside his door were starting to get to him.

  Finally, later in the evening, a pair of soldiers came and escorted him out of the hospital. They returned the clothes he was wearing when he was captured, but not his weapon.

  The majority of this part of the city was wrecked. Buildings were crumbled; trash and smoldering fires occupied the streets. It wasn’t a city in the United States he was looking at—it was something he would see on CNN from a third-world country. Whatever beating Bram and his soldiers gave them, it seemed to be effective.

  Mike was brought to a small building farther south of the river, which he got a good look at from one of the streets that led to the bridge, or at least where the bridge used to be. There was a humming coming from behind the building. It sounded familiar, but Mike couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “What is that?” Mike asked. “That noise?”

  “Generator.”

  “You have power running here?”

  “Move.”

  They waited outside the door of an office. Mike could hear some mumbling on the other side and when he was let in there was a group of three men. Two were dressed in military uniforms, and the other was Dr. Wyatt, who was also the only one that smiled.

  “Gentlemen, this is the soldier we captured from across the river,” Wyatt said.

  One of the men leaned into Wyatt’s ear, and Wyatt waved him off.

  “We’ll let you two get to it then,” the man said.

  The two men exited leaving Wyatt and Mike alone. There was a single table in the room, and on top of it was a massive map covered in small figures.

  “I hope you’re feeling better?” Wyatt asked.

  “Head still hurts.”

  “Mine too.”

  Mike kept glancing down at the map, and around the room. The whole place was run-down. The one lamp they had in the room was flickering, struggling to perform its simple task of lighting the space.

  “It doesn’t look like much, but we make do,” Dr. Wyatt said. “Have you had an opportunity to eat?”

  “No.”

  “Here, we still have some sandwiches from lunch.”

  Dr. Wyatt pulled a tray off a chair in the corner and extended it to Mike. He took one hesitantly.

  “I guess the easiest way to start this is asking how much you know about us?” Dr. Wyatt asked.

  “Besides learning your entire military strategy?” Mike asked, looking at the map.

  “Yes, besides that.”

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  “Because you’re the first soldier that we’ve been able to capture since all of this started.”

  “I’m the first?”

  “Yes, all of the others killed themselves, but not you, which makes me think that you actually value your life. And someone that values their life tends to value the lives of others.”

  “In my experience it’s usually the opposite.”